


39

by alrightlullaby



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Isaac Hanson must be protected at all times, husband/wife, implied/depression, in which Nikki gives sage advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:02:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightlullaby/pseuds/alrightlullaby
Summary: Inspired by the prompt "write a story in which a character is drinking coffee." And by Isaac's instagram post about not liking his birthday, poor guy.
Relationships: Isaac Hanson/Nikki Hanson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	39

It’s 3:52am on the seventeenth of November and Isaac Hanson is on his second cup of coffee. _‘My birthday,’_ he thinks. ‘ _I’m officially thirty-nine’_ He muses about the younger versions of himself and how he hated waiting, how he could hardly stand hearing things like, “Time flies when your older.” Now, approaching forty, he truly does not know where time has gone. He remembers photos of himself at nine months old, his white-blonde hair curling around his ears. He thinks of himself at nine, somewhere in Trinidad, listening to Chuck Berry on tape, and learning to harmonize with his brothers. He recalls fondly of nineteen, and how proud he was of his band’s second record, a collection of thirteen songs written only as a trio. He laughs at himself at twenty-nine, and his stupid, all consuming fear of turning thirty. Now, it seems as though he blinked and he was married, blinked again and his first son was born. Just as quickly, he had another son and then a daughter, old enough to run so quickly he cannot keep up. He’s never much liked his birthday and this year, he realizes why.

“I can’t keep up,” he laments to his empty kitchen, almost expecting a response. His thoughts go to his brothers, to whom he’s always been compared. He cannot keep up with Taylor and his boundless creative nature. He has none of his first brother’s breezy confidence and charm. He cannot articulate the way Taylor can, or think of an answer without getting nervous rambling on. He wipes his hands down his face at the thought of Zac. Zac, five years his junior, who can write five outstanding songs in a day. Isaac hasn’t written one in a year. Zac, a father of the four, fun in every sense of the word; inventive, and perfectly in tune to his family’s dramatically different needs. Isaac is too slow, too sentimental, too soft. He hopes his thin skin doesn’t rub off on his own children.

“Isaac?” His wife’s whisper startles him, and he is glad for the interruption. “Honey, why are you awake?” She’s at his side now, running her warm hands along his back. He leans into it for a moment, and marvels at how quickly her touch soothes his nerves. 

“I can’t stay asleep,” he answers quietly. “I can’t quit thinking.”

“It’s your birthday.” Her tone is soft, but matter-of-fact. “You can never sleep on your birthday.” He nods sheepishly, and puts his head in his hands. She takes his chin and forces his gaze. “What is it this year?” Her question is genuine, every year _has_ been different. Upon turning thirty eight-his fear was sickness, at thirty-seven, memory. He doesn’t remember thirty-six, which makes him wonder if he had the right idea at thirty-seven. He is thirty-nine now. He can’t recall things the way he used to. Sensing his train wandering train of thought, Nikki moves her hands to either side of his face. “Hey you, look at me.” Isaac’s gaze is somewhere beyond her shoulders, and returns to focus to her face. He looks into her blue-green eyes and falls in love with her all over again. “It’s just a number, sweetheart,” she says, “you’re still you.”

“I know,” Isaac answers, and Nikki pulls a chair to sit next to him. “That’s the problem. I’m me and I just can’t keep up.” Nikki’s brow furrows.

“Keep up? With what, with who?” She asks. He’s embarrassed to say it.

“With Zac. With Taylor. With…time.”

“Isaac,” Nikki pauses and takes a sip of his coffee. “There’s no such thing as keeping up with time. If we could do that, the world would be a _much_ weirder place.” She raises her eyebrows and Isaac smiles slightly. “And how do Taylor and Zac fit into this equation?” Isaac is embarrassed again. 

“It’s just…I don’t know how to explain it.” His head drops a little.

“Can you try?” Nikki asks softly, adjusting her robe around her midsection. “We’re up, anyway.” Isaac clears his throat.

“Taylor because he’s is such a good dad. He has six kids and makes it look easy. Some days it feels like all I do is yell at Everett and Monroe. I’m _exhausted_ by Odette’s particularity. I love them, know I do. But sometimes they make me so tired. And Zac. He’s so young and has it all figured out. He’s energetic, and builds freakin’ tree houses! I mean, the guy crashed a motorcycle and was on stage a week later like it never even happened. When I had a blood clot, I couldn’t play for a month. It’s all going by so fast, Nik,” Isaac pauses to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. His voice breaks. “It seems like everyone is running circles around me and all I do is stay in one place.” His tears are flowing now, but he does not wipe them away. Before he knows it, Nikki’s arms are around him.

“Isaac no. Honey, no, no no.” She smoothes his hair and kisses the hollow of his neck. She sounds like she might cry too, and Isaac feels guilty for it. “Come on.” She says, pushing his coffee mug away. “Let’s sit on the couch and I’ll prove you wrong.” Isaac follows her lead and they settle in the living room. She sneaks a pillow behind his back, tucks her feet under her, and adjusts a blanket over her knees. “Where should I begin? I know you. I’ll begin at the beginning. And you’d better listen.”

“Okay,” Isaac chuckles quietly. “I’ll listen.”

“Alright.” She cracks her knuckles and rolls her shoulders, playfully, like a boxer getting ready for a fight. Despite himself, Isaac smiles all the way. She can always make him smile. “Taylor. You’re right. Taylor _does_ have six kids. But have you ever noticed how much coffee he drinks in a day? His kids exhaust him sometimes, too. And he’s human for it, just like you are. He yells. I yell. Don’t even _begin_ to tell me you’re a bad father because I will smack you right across your beautiful face. Our children want for nothing, Isaac, and that’s because of you. You work so hard for them. Everett and Monroe drive me up a wall too, but I guess that’s what we get for having two boys so close together. Odette’s particularity comes from you.” Isaac opens his mouth, to challenge her, but she doesn’t let him. “I _love_ that about you. You take your time. You think carefully about how to dress, or what to cook for dinner. The little things are important to you because they should be. And if they weren’t, you’d never remember that I like an onion, not an olive in my martini, even though that’s kinda weird. Monroe always has his lucky bead threaded on his shoelace before his softball games. Odette’s favorite dress is almost always clean, and by the way, you _never_ forget the fabric softener like I do.” She smiles and takes his hands. As much as he longs to be, he is not convinced.

“I just don’t see it, Nik.”

“These are the things that make us _happy_ , Isaac. We’re _happier_ and _better_ because of what _you_ do. And Zac? Okay, where to begin with Zac.” Nikki laughs and Isaac does too. She can always make him laugh. “He never would have crashed his damn motorcycle if he’d had the good sense never to get on one, like you. Plus, the helmets give you helmet hair, and I _know_ you know thats no good.” She reaches up and brushes back his forever out-of-place curl. He wants to kiss her then, but doesn’t. Even for something good, she hates being interrupted. ”Zac only _looks_ like he’s got it all figured out. Sure, he knows what he wants, but he’s making it up as we go along just as much as Taylor, or you, or I am.” She takes a breath, squeezes his hands. She starts to speak again, and swallows hard. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never stayed in one place.” Her voice trembles, and diamond tears form at the corners of her eyes. “I’ve seen the world with you, Isaac Hanson. I’ve kissed you under the Eiffel Tower and under the mistletoe at your parent’s house, and somehow you make them both feel the same.” She pauses and hiccups through her tears. “Every day I see you challenge yourself, and me, and our children. This time last year, did you know anything about reading a symphony chart, or how to play the cello? That’s moving, honey. You’re not just standing in one place.” They’re both crying now, and Isaac takes her in his arms.

“Thank you.” His voice is muffled by her shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she pulls away and swipes her tears from the brims of her eyes. There is a beat of silence before Nikki speaks again. “We should door thing,” she suggests. Isaac’s face softens.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Just tired enough,” she answers, reaching toward the lamp on the couch-side table. Isaac situates himself and puts a pillow in his lap. Nikki hands him their book, and pulls her blanket to her chin. It’s an old tradition, him reading to her. Formed before they were married, honed by his years of touring. Suddenly, remembers thirty-six, their tenth wedding anniversary, and her breath over the phone as he read from his tour bus bunk. He cannot remember where he was going, but now, he does not care. He opens to the first page but before he can begin, Nikki taps the cover. “Happy birthday,” she whispers. ‘ _I’m officially thirty-nine,’_ Isaac thinks again, and this time, it comforts him. As morning creeps in, he clears his throat and begins to read.


End file.
